


Adjustments

by Novalinx



Series: Choices [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novalinx/pseuds/Novalinx
Summary: Changes are in motion. Everyone is tense and worried the future, although Tony manages to find some bright spots.





	1. Changes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for NaNoWriMo 2016!
> 
> To line up the canons, Harry Potter has been pushed forward ten years. Fifth year, where this story begins, takes place during 2005-2006.
> 
> NCIS is set at the end of season 3, leading into season 4.
> 
> Many thanks to pyramidoftears and nurse05 for betaing!

Winter melted into Spring, Tony was amazed at how much could be done in such a short amount of time.

With Penelope's help and Sabine's financial assistance, Tony was able to find a moderately sized three bedroom home in Rose Hill. The plan was to move in closer to June, when his lease on the apartment was up. Until then, it was getting some mundane and magical renovations.

Among other things, the spare room was getting some high end notice me not spells put it on so the two wizards could safely use it as a combination magical library, potions lab, and practice room. 

A private floo was being added, it being a necessity in the magic world, though Tony had done everything in his power to keep the address unlisted.

The living room was getting a small expansion charm. Nothing that would be obvious to mundanes, but enough so that Tony's piano didn't cramp the space. 

Each room was getting a fresh coat of paint, various shades of greens, browns, and greys, the carpet was being replaced with hardwood floors. The house was also getting windows updated, new security system installed, the whole nine yards.

Tony was surprised to realize how much he was looking forward to moving in. Not only had it been Gibbs approved, but he found himself dropping in to stare at it whenever they got off work early.

Thanks to his connections with the Human Resources Department, the rumors of his upcoming move and familial addition were nonexistent. Although that was likely to change soon. He was leaving work early the next day for a meeting with the principal of Cygne Academy, a very hoity-toity magical school located in D.C.

But first, he had to drag himself away from his new home and back to his apartment. He had dinner plans with Penelope in Quantico. She had some more general information for him as well as some specifics about CA.

He patted the door frame of his house, set the alarm, locked up, and headed to his car. Time for dinner with a lovely lady.

*****

 

The apparition spot in Quantico was the backroom of a bus terminal, not Tony's favorite place to hang out, but it was easily overlooked and provided transportation all over the city. Luckily for him, the restaurant he was meeting Penelope at was only a couple blocks away. It, ironically, was the chic bistro she told her coworkers she was eating at before.

It was a matter of minutes for Tony to find Penelope seated at a small table within the restaurant. He smiled at the hostess and indicated he was joining a friend.

Sliding across from the technical analyst, he beamed at her and immediately started gushing about the house.

“It's amazing Penny, the floors are done now, so are the walls. Except for the extra bits, it's ready to move in!”

“I'm glad you like it! Sit, you have to try some of their soups. They're to die for.” She thrust the menu towards Tony and waited impatiently while he decided what to eat.

They both ordered soup, making sure to get two different kinds so they could share, as well as sandwiches. They chatted idly about their days and the plans Tony was making for decorating the house.

When their food was delivered, Garcia nudged Tony's foot with hers. He looked down and saw her wand, nodding when he realized she was going to cast a privacy spell.

“What's up?” he asked taking a bite of his sandwich.

“So many things, lovely.” Before continuing she reached over and stole a bit of his soup. “Hmm,” she hummed. “Yummy.”

“Glad you like my dinner, the news?”

She batted her eyelashes at him and offered her own bowl in apology. “First things first, you need to contact Sabine and tell her that as soon as she can, Draco will need a new wand.”

“What? Why?”

“The British Ministry of Magic watches underage magic usage. They do it by putting a trace charm on all the wands. I haven't been able to get details, so I assume the charms themselves dissolve when a student either graduates school or ages out. But,” she stabbed her spoon in Tony's direction. “It means that if someone thinks of it, they'll have a way to find Draco.”

Tony nodded, stirring his soup absently. “Cousin Lucius works for the Ministry, he'd be able to get someone to look within hours of realizing Draco is gone.” he sighed. “The best bet would be to destroy the old wand.”

“Destroy it or put it somewhere no one can get to. A vault in Gringott's might work.”

“Destroying it might be best. There's always a chance that some kind of warrant or decree would force the Goblins to give access to someone looking for it. Not sure we could find someone far enough removed that they wouldn't be able to trace Draco to me.”

Garcia nodded and pulled out a bright pink sheet of paper. “Here are some places you can get new wands, in D.C. and in France. Not sure what the timetable is once he's away from Hogwarts, but I imagine that he won't want to be without a wand for long.”

Tony accepted the list and put it in his pocket. “I'll floo Sabine and mention it to her, let her make those plans.”

“Good.” she continued working on her sandwich, chewing expediently. “I'll save the bombshell for last. First, your meeting tomorrow at CA.”

“It's at two o'clock. I gotta be there about fifteen minutes before hand. Already got the guaranteed time off, even if there’s a case.”

“Who are you meeting with?”

“Principal Margaret Simmons, Assistant Principal Henry Mitchell, and Draco's guidance counselor, Cindy Adams.”

Penelope hummed as she chewed. “How much can you tell them?”

“Sabine as already been in contact with them, a heads up to my meeting if you will. They know that I'm going to require an oath of silence. If there is any suspicion that they aren't on the up and up, I'll give them a highly edited version of events.”

“Tread very carefully Tony, you'll have to be at your most politic. These people are used to dealing with sharks.”

“Sharks? They teach children.”

“Magical children,” Garcia emphasized, “Magical children with connections to government posts all around the world. CA might provide magical instruction, but it's also a premiere private school for anyone who can afford it.”

Tony cocked his head, “How do they keep the magic part secret?”

“They don't, really. Most of the children who go there do have some sort of connection to the magic world. Witches, wizards, squibs, siblings of mundane-borns, children of creatures.” Finger quotes during that word, “I think there are even children who go there that have had prophecies made about them. The school as an intensive scholarship program and does it's best to help anyone who needs it.”

“I knew some of it,” Tony admitted, “RIMA had away games against them sometimes.”

“Ah, the Rhode Island Magical Academy, I've heard it sucks.”

A snort was her answer. “It had its problems, but I liked it enough. Taught me what I need to know to get into OSU and survive working with the military.” His eyes strayed to the top of the table. “Got me away from Senior without him learning about magic.”

Penelope smiled softly and patted his hand. “Well,” she cleared her throat “Just be careful with what you say, wear a nice suit, all that stuff.”

Tony laughed and winked at his friend. “I think I've got that part covered. Now, what's the bombshell you have to tell me?”

“You said you wanted to tell Gibbs the whole truth. After we met up last time, Sabine sent me a letter adding her support to seeing if he would be approachable about the whole thing.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Tony,” Garcia paused, her fingers fidgeting with her cutlery. “Gibbs is on the list as a parent to an underage witch. But... there are no current records for that child or her mother.”

*****

  

The next day dawned bright, thought Tony didn't really notice. After leaving the bistro with Penelope he had headed home and spent most of the night idly playing his piano.

His boss had been married to a witch.

Those words chased around in his head. Penelope could find nothing about Gibbs being magical, though records like that could have been buried once he joined the Marines. The part that was most difficult for Tony was that he wouldn't be able to actually talk to Gibbs about it until the day after his appointment at Cygne.

As he arrived at the NCIS building, he forced those thoughts out of his head. They had closed a case a few days before and he had to keep his game face on to get the reports ready for submission. Gibbs had been right, McGee and Ziva were not huge fans of the extra work they were getting. In a way, it had doubled Tony's workload, since they fought him at each step.

It had been two months since Gibbs announced that the junior agents would be taking on more of the work. They had agreed to inform them about Draco in another month or so. Perhaps it would have been better to be up front, but Tony truly did not need to deal with their issues on top of the changes he was making.

He worked steadily throughout the day, kicking back reports to both junior agents at least twice. Then he took them on a tour of the van, showing them how to do inventory and where the spare equipment was for keeping it stocked.

At one, he shut down his computer and headed to the elevator.

“DiNozzo,”

“Yeah Boss?” he turned, finger still on the button.

“Say hi to Cindy for me, will you?”

“Uh, sure boss.” Tony stepped onto the elevator and stared at his reflection, thoroughly confused.

 

*****

 

Cygne Academy occupied a typical looking American school campus. The parking lot was full of cars, belonging to both staff and students. The gym was easy to spot, standing slightly off to the side. The building itself was three stories, red brick with ornate cement fixtures decorating the windows.

The history of Cygne was short compared to Hogwarts, but long for America. It had originally been founded when Pierre L'Enfant designed D.C. 

Before its founding, magical children either returned to England to attend Hogwarts or were educated at home. Unlike Hogwarts and many magic schools in Europe, Cygne was a day school. Children attended every day for seven to eight hours. Magical and mundane courses were offered, as well as sports.

The curriculum was demanding, requiring students take enough mundane courses to advance in the non-magical world. 

In some ways, it was similar to RIMA. In other ways, it was completely different. Tony just hoped it was a good fit for his cousin.

It was a matter of minutes for him to enter the building and get signed in. He patiently waited on a chair outside the Principal's office, reminiscing about his own time in school.

By the time he was called in, he had remembered three instances of being dragged in front of the RIMA Headmaster, only one of those had involved using his wand against another student.

“Mr. DiNozzo, please come in,” a cheerful woman invited. “Have a seat, I'm Margaret Simmons, this is Henry Mitchell and Cindy Adams.” she settled down on a seat of her own in a small grouping of chairs.

“Hello,” he nodded to them. “Ah, Ms. Adams, my boss, Jethro Gibbs said to tell you hello.”

“Gibbs?” Cindy blinked. “Goodness, I haven't seen him in years. How is he?”

“Demanding,” Tony replied after a moment of thought. “I'll give you his number before I leave?”

“That would be wonderful.”

Margaret smiled before bringing their attention back to the meeting. “Matriarch Sabine Malfoy contacted me about this meeting. All she would say was that you would require an oath. May I ask why?”

“I'm sure you can make some guesses, but I'm going to ask you to wait for a moment.” He collected his thoughts. “A cousin of mine is in need of some help. His current situation is tricky, at best. He wants out. He contacted Madame Malfoy to get that help, and she contacted me. We are concerned that if too many people know the truth, he, and possibly the school, could be in danger. We are going to require the oath in order to give you full disclosure.”

The three educators all exchanged looks. 

Margaret leaned forward, “We talked earlier this week, under a privacy spell, about the what ifs of the situation. We are willing to take the oath.”

Tony breathed out in relief. “Thank you.”

The three administrators pulled out their wands and swore to keep the intimate details of Tony's cousin private in all situations. Slowly, Tony filled them in on the identity of his cousin and the circumstances that were bringing him to America.

“Let's talk about Draco's school record,” Cindy suggested, breaking the silence that had settled after the revelation of Draco's circumstances.

“He's taking the standard courses at Hogwarts, plus arithmancy and runes.” Tony told them, referring to the list on his phone.

“He's taking OWLs this year?”

“Yes, though the results won't be available until June.”

Cindy nodded absently, “It'll put him ahead in magical studies, do you know his mundane experience?”

“Nil. He's a purebred from a very,” Tony clucked his tongue as he considered the word to use, “secluded family. I think he'll need tutoring in everything.”

“Hmm. We'll test him first. I'm sure he was tutored before attending Hogwarts, learning how to read and write and at least some basic arithmetic. He may be acceptable in math and ELA. It's the science and social studies he may need extra help with.” Cindy made notes in Draco's academic folder. “Does he compete in any sports?”

“He's been the seeker on his house quidditch team for three or four years.”

“Do you think he'll want to continue?”

Tony shrugged, “He may want to, but I'm not sure it'll be the best idea. Playing on a sports team might bring him undue attention.”

“Also,” Henry said leaning forward, “He won't be used to the sports schedule here. I believe at Hogwarts they only play maybe a half dozen games total all year. Here we have twice that in one semester.”

“An excellent point,” Margaret agreed. “I believe that until we know his academic standing, Mr. Paddington will be advised to stay away from sports and extracurriculars.”

Tony readily agreed with that plan.

The rest of the meeting was hashing out the details of Draco's arrival. By the time Tony was handing over Gibbs' phone number to Cindy, they had created a summer tutoring program to get Draco as caught up as possible before the school year began in September.

Tony considered it a successful meeting, even if it was a bit weird to hand out his boss' number.


	2. Confessions and Explosions

Another case kept Tony from asking Gibbs not only about Penelope's discovery, but his connection to Cindy at Cygne Academy. The case was a fairly straightforward one, a Seaman went AWOL to join some high school buddies for a night on the town. The night went a little too far and the guy ended up with a bullet in the back of his head. His buddies panicked and abandoned him, only one of them had also gotten shot and gone to the hospital.

Once they were questioned by the police, it became obvious that something, or in this case, someone was missing from the story. Background checks and a poorly hidden credit card in the seaman's name led to the DCPD passing the case to NCIS.

Gibbs was not happy. Bad enough the seaman skivvied off to go drinking with his friends, but then his friends left him alone in an alley. 

The team managed to piece together the events of the night. The group of friends had hired a couple prostitutes. When their time was up, payment was due. However, they didn't have quite enough cash. The seaman was going to head to an ATM to get the rest when the pimp showed up and threatened them. Words were exchanged and they were fired at. 

Altogether a damn shame.

Once the paperwork was filed, family contacted, and everything restocked to be ready for the next case, Gibbs let the team head home for the day.

Tony lingered.

“You need something?”

“Wondered if I could stop by tonight, got some things I want to go over with you.”

Gibbs eyed him carefully. “Course, bring beer.”

*****

Tony arrived at Gibbs' house about an hour after they had left work. Walking straight in, he saw a fire in the fireplace and could just make out the sounds of Gibbs working on a boat in the basement. Placing the beer in the fridge, he headed down to great his boss.

“Thought we'd have cowboy steaks with baked potatoes,” Gibbs' voice greeted him as he made his way down the stairs.

“Sounds good, need my help with anything?”

“Nah, you've been doing a lot lately. Getting ready for your cousin to move in and fast tracking McGee and Ziva's training.”

Tony nodded and leaned against the stair railing. He was content to listen to Gibbs work until his friend decided it was time to start on dinner.

He woke with a start when a hand shook his shoulder.

“C'mon DiNozzo, time to work on supper.”

“Ugh,” Tony stood and stretched out his back. “Didn't mean to fall asleep.”

“You've had a lot going on, come on up and sit on the couch. I'll wake you for supper if I need to.”

Instead of sitting on the couch as Gibbs suggested, Tony followed him to the kitchen and settled at the table, watching as Gibbs began preparing their dinner.

“Said hi to Cindy for you the other day. Gave her your number.”

“I know, she called.”

Tony hummed. “How do you know her?”

Gibbs hesitated, “We met through my first wife.”

Squinting, Tony turned to him, “Was that Diane or Rebecca?”

The other man's shoulders tightened and Tony watched as he carefully set down his knife and turned to lean against the counter.

“Boss?” sitting up straight, Tony focused all his attention towards the older man.

“Look, I know the clues,” Gibbs said. “Probably more than most. So before I tell you anything else you need to,” he waved his hand as if holding a wand.

Pursing his lips, Tony considered what to do. If Gibbs already knew, then nothing was lost. If he was just pretending to know, well that was another story.

As if sensing Tony's reservation, Gibbs left the kitchen and headed up the stairs. When he returned he was holding a box. A box that new wands were typically kept in. He handed it over to his SFA.

With a flick of his wrist, Tony opened the box and gazed at its contents. He nodded and pulled out his own wand, casting a privacy spell with ease.

“Where do you keep it?” Gibbs asked curiously.

“Ah, some secrets never get told,” and a wink were the only answer before he turned serious. “Cindy and your first wife?”

His boss sighed, picking up his knife again. “Been married four times.”

“But... only three divorces. Oh, Gibbs, I'm sorry.”

Gibbs nodded his head, a pained smile crossing his face. “Shannon was a witch.” he admitted slowly. “Didn't tell me until after we were engaged, thought she was having me on. That she'd seen too many episodes of _Bewitched_.” His smile was fond now. “She pulled that out and showed me some spells, told me more. She was very up front about needing my acceptance. If I couldn't deal with it she would _obliviate_ ,” he stumbled over the unfamiliar word, “and move on with her life.”

“There are laws,” Tony explained softly.

“Yeah, she told me about that. She gave me three days to think about it, along with a spell that forbid me from talking to anyone about the details. I realized I loved her more than anything and we got married.”

“You had a kid,” Tony stated.

Gibbs slanted a look his way and nodded. “Kelly, my little girl.” He paused to take a breath. “They were killed after seeing a drug deal, I was overseas at the time.”

“Oh, Boss. I'm sorry.”

The two sat in silence as Gibbs finished their dinner prep. Once he was ready to move into the living room, he piled it all on a plate and jerked his head to the living room.

“Cindy and Shannon were classmates in a home schooling program. When Cindy got that job at Cygne we all went out for a celebratory supper. They were making plans for Kelly to attend.”

Setting on the couch, Tony hesitantly observed. “You haven’t spoken to her since...” he trailed off.

“There are a lot of people I haven't spoken to since then. It was when you mentioned the Academy when we talked about what schools you were going to send your cousin to that I started to wonder.”

Slumping on the couch, Tony groaned. “God, I hope no one else figures it out so quickly.” 

“They won't,” Gibbs assured him as he put the steaks onto the fire. “Can you tell me more about Draco now?”

Tony nodded absently. “I told Sabine I wanted to tell you, she agreed if we did a bit of background. Penelope told me last week about your wife and daughter.”

“Ah.” A moment of silence. “Sabine?”

“She's Matriarch for the Malfoy Family.”

Sitting back on his heels, Gibbs looked Tony over. “You're a Malfoy?”

“Really? An ocean away and that's the reaction we get? Jesus. My maternal grandmother,” he explained. “Mom never told Senior about magic so it's been a bit of a juggling act since she passed.”

“Your dad sending you to military school...” his boss started.

“Was a clever cover for me to attend a magic school.”

Nodding, Gibbs turned to poke at their supper. “Your cousin?”

“Draco's dad is Voldemort's right hand man.”

Tony watched as Gibbs closed his eyes. “Heard of him, thought he died a while back.”

“It wasn't permanent.”

“Too bad. Your cousin?” he asked again.

“Draco doesn't want to follow old Voldie. Now, that doesn't mean there aren't some issues he doesn't agree with Voldemort on, just that he doesn't want to go about murdering people.” Tony sat forward, elbows on his knees. “The kid wanted out. His dad won't help him so he went to the head of his mother's family. That guy essentially kicked Draco out of the family and left him flapping in the breeze. He contacted Sabine as a last resort, I think.

“Being here is going to be a huge culture shock for him. In England, he and his family live completely separately from Mundanes, so he has no experience with any technology, knows nothing about history or current events.”

“Not going to be easy,” was Gibbs' idle comment.

“No, not so much.”

They watched the steaks cook for a while longer before Gibbs pulled them off and plated them. He went to the kitchen to grab the now cold beers and the potatoes. Once he was seated next to Tony, he looked his SFA in the eye.

“You need any help, you tell me. Tomorrow you need to let Jen know. We've got a little more than a month until he gets here and she needs to know that you will not be taking on dangerous assignments for the foreseeable future.”

Tony nodded. “HR already has it on file, no agent afloat, no spur of the moment relocation, no long term undercover ops, and so forth. But I'll tell the director in the morning.”

“Good.”

*****

As soon as Tony got to work the next day, he went up to Cynthia and asked her to squeeze him in when there was time. She smiled and agreed, saying that tentatively around ten would be a good time.

The meeting with the director was awkward. On one hand, she seemed impressed that he was making so many big changes to accommodate a relative in need. On the other hand, there was just the barest tilt to her eyebrow, a tic on her cheek that made him wonder how pleased with these events she really was.

He didn't have time to ponder on it. The team piled into a car to listen in as Gibbs spoke with an undercover operative who had information on a terrorist group and a possible bombing. 

The next few days were incredibly tense with Gibbs out of commission in a coma in the hospital and the team trying to find possible terrorists and bombs. Tony stepped up to the plate and kept the investigation going while the director and Ducky stayed at the hospital with Gibbs. The rest of the team was informed as soon as Gibbs woke, but his memory was off and he was confused. 

Despite that, Gibbs was still able to advise the director on how to deal with the terrorists; unfortunately she and the people above her chose to ignore him. SEALs died because of that choice.

Their return to NCIS headquarters had an air of defeat about them all. Unnecessary deaths were always upsetting and Gibbs was clearly still in pain from his accident and subsequent coma. They quietly filled out their reports, each lost in their own thoughts. Once everything was ready for review, the team began to pack up and go.

Before they could get far, though, Gibbs dropped the bombshell of his retirement on them. 

With a simple “You'll do,” to Tony, he was gone and out of their lives.


	3. New Team Dynamics

The team was given until the following Monday off after Gibbs' impromptu retirement. They were all shell-shocked and needed the time. Tony considered going by the man's house to talk to him, but by the time he got there, it was shut up and Gibbs was gone.

Returning to his apartment, Tony just sat at his piano, staring blankly at the keys in the darkened room.

He wouldn't have much time to wallow. The final push of his move was coming up in less than a week. Draco would be arriving in a month, he had meetings with tutors and tests for the kid to take. 

A decisive nod. He could have the rest of the night and the next morning to mourn the loss of his boss and friend. After that, he needed to prepare for his future. Despite being off, he would need to make sure all the reports were completed and filed. He could do that the next afternoon. Other reports would need to be compiled to help whoever the director was going to bring in to keep the team on active duty.

He briefly wondered if he would be promoted or not. Throwing the thought aside, he stood up and moved to the kitchen. It wouldn’t matter what would change at work. He would do his job. Right now, part of his job included feeding himself. Some Italian comfort food was just what the situation called for.

*****

The following afternoon Tony checked in with security and headed up to the bullpen. He had spent the night playing the piano and watching some of his favorite movies. Now it was time for him to prepare for the upcoming future.

Logging on to his computer, he took a second to think through his checklist. He needed to compile the reports for the last case, including medical reports for Gibb's injury, clean out Gibbs' desk, and check that his service weapon was turned in. After that, a quick summary of the team's abilities and training would make any upcoming transition smoother.

He had just finished sorting through Gibbs' desk, not that there was a lot there, when the director appeared beside him.

“Agent DiNozzo, could you join me in my office for a moment?”

“Of course director, just let me put this box on my desk.” Tony suited words to actions and followed the director up the stairs to the office. He took a seat that she indicated and waited while she sorted herself out.

It amused him to compare this meeting with his meeting at Draco's school. Both felt like meeting with the principal. He didn't have long to compare the two experiences when the door opened again and a small Asian woman stepped in.

“Ah, excellent.” Director Shepard stood to greet the newcomer. “Agent Guo, please have a seat.”

“Thank you, director.” The woman replied, bobbing a slight bow before seating next to Tony.

The director took her seat again before speaking. “Agent DiNozzo, this is Agent Xia Guo, she will taking over the lead agent position of the Major Case Response Team.” 

Tony blinked, and turned to his new boss. “It's nice to meet you ma'am.”

“You as well,” Agent Guo responded softly.

“It is fortuitous that you came in today, Tony.” The director said, drawing attention back to her. “Agent Guo arrived from our Singapore office early this morning. It would be a nice gesture if you took the time to show her around and get her situated.”

Tony eyed the director carefully, wondering what she would have done if he had not come in to work that day. He turned to Xia with a smile. “I'd be glad to show you around, do you have a place to stay?”

“I do, thank you. My older brother and his husband live in the area, they are letting me stay with them until I find my own place.”

“Glad to hear that,” Tony turned to the director, “do you need us for anything else? There's a lot to show Agent Guo.”

“No,” the director answered with a smile. “Please help her get acquainted with our facilities. Agent Guo, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask.”

“I will, Director. Thank you.” Xia stood along with Tony and left the office to head back to the bullpen.

*****

“Well, this is where the magic happens,” Tony gestured to indicate the group of desks that the MCRT used. “Your desk is there, mine's here, that one is our junior agent's, Tim McGee and the last is the liaison's desk, Officer Ziva David.”

Xia nodded as she took in the set up. “Do you believe rearrangement will be disadvantageous?”

Tony considered, eying spacing and mentally figuring eye lines towards the mounted screens. “I'm not sure. I think there may be some push back just because it's different.”

The other agent nodded again. “Perhaps you can give me a tour of the building and we can discuss the team in a conference room?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Tony agreed and led the way to the elevators. “I'll show you the morgue, labs, interrogation rooms, and garage. Under Gibbs we had certain rooms we usually used, though that could change depending on the case load of other teams.”

Tony continued to talk as he showed Xia around the building. They ended in a smaller conference room on the bullpen's floor. Tony had stopped by his desk to pick up the folders he had been working on to provide for the new team lead.

Instead of opening any of the folders, Xia just laid her hand on them and stared at the table for a long moment. “Tell me, Agent DiNozzo,” she began.

“Oh, please. Call me Tony.” he interrupted.

She nodded in agreement. “If you call me Xia. Tell me why you have not been promoted to team lead. You have been a SFA for many years, have successfully run cases before; to all intents and purposes, you were marked as Agent Gibbs' heir.”

It was Tony's turn to hesitate, and he took his time before answering. “There have been some changes in my life,” he began slowly. “Next month I have a cousin coming to live with me, I will have full custody and be entirely responsible for him. Gibbs knew and we've been making some changes to how the team's been run to accommodate that.”

“A child is no reason to pass you up for promotion.”

“It shouldn't be,” he agreed. “I don't know if I can properly word it. When I informed HR of the changes, there were no problems. When I told the director before our last case, things have become... strained.”

“Why do you think that?”

Tony clucked his tongue thoughtfully. “Nothing I can put my finger on. The director has been overly invested in the team since her appointment. She placed Officer David on our team after the death of Agent Todd, despite the fact that Gibbs has always made a point of choosing his own members.”

“Hmm.” was Xia's wordless response. She then opened the folders and began to read.

A half hour later, she looked up again. Across from her Tony was busy doing final checks on reports, having kept himself busy.

“What are your opinions of the junior agents?”

Blinking, Tony pushed aside the report he was working on and turned his attention to Xia.

“McGee is still a bit green,” he started honestly. “He was with the cyber unit when we stole him. Great with computers. Can do just about anything with them really, but he tends to assume all the answers are in that little box. He's gotten more of a spine over the years, used to stutter really bad in the beginning. He has a decent aim, though his hand to hand fighting isn't as good.”

Xia nodded and made a few notes on a pad of paper near her elbow. “And Officer David?”

“Overconfident” was Tony's prompt answer. “She was trained by Mossad and unfortunately still uses some of their techniques here. She has been told repeatedly not to enter property without permission or a warrant. She is often overly aggressive with suspects and too blunt with witnesses and victims.”

“I see that the forensics scientist and ME are closely tied to the MCRT, what do you think of Ms. Scuito?”

“Abby... does not take change well. Gibbs has been in a father like role for her for a long time. Otherwise, she's brilliant, if a bit unorthodox.”

“Unorthodox?” Xia asked.

“She likes to play her music as loud as she can while she works. She doesn't really trust other people to work in her space. She likes caf-pows in exchange for her findings.”

“Caf-pows?” Xias raised an eyebrow.

“Super caffeinated drink that is available at Gibbs' favorite coffee shop.”

“Ah, I see. What of Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer?”

“Ducky, that is Dr. Mallard, is a great guy. Knows his stuff, works steadily. Likes to tell stories of his youth. Palmer is still a bit jumpy around the team. He's been going to medical school and should be graduating soon.”

“And yourself?”

“Me?” Tony repeated, surprised. “Well, I do my best work at night. I often use movie plots to make intuitive jumps in cases.” he paused for a moment. “My authority with McGee and Ziva is... strained. Partly my fault, partly Gibbs' and theirs.”

“Agent Gibbs did nothing to help you?”

Tony shrugged. “Gibbs believed in letting us solve our own issues. Sometimes McGee and Ziva go over my head and he backs them. Sorry, he backed them.”

“I see.” 

“We worked well together, most of the time.” Tony quickly explained. “I guess it was just the way it was.”

“I am not judging any of you, Tony. I am merely trying to see how my presence will affect the status quo. Things will have to change, best to know what we will be heading into.”

“Right, that's smart.”

Xia smiled. “I will not keep you much longer, I understand you have until Monday off, as does the rest of the team.”

“Yes.”

“Before you leave, could you get me the files for some past cases?”

“Oh, sure. I did start to pull some. Our last case, the one where Gibbs was injured,” he explained. “Plus the first case with both McGee and Ziva as well as ones where I thought we all did our best.”

“That sounds most helpful. Thank you.”

Tony smiled and left the conference room. He quickly collected the files and returned to Xia. “Try not to stay too late, ok? It'll be Monday soon enough.”

“If you promise to take your own advice,” she teased in return.

Tony laughed and winked before saying good bye and heading back to his desk. It took him a matter of minutes to log off and shut down his computer. Then he was out in the parking garage and heading back to his apartment.

Things were indeed changing, Tony just wasn't sure if it was for the best or not.


	4. New Team, New House

Returning to his apartment, Tony put aside thoughts of the new team lead and how the dynamics were going to be shaken up in the coming weeks. The deadline for his move was fast approaching. The piano movers were coming by later that week, the other movers would be by the week after.

He still had a lot to do.

Tossing his suit jacket on the back of the couch, he headed to the kitchen, only then switching on lights.

“Master Anthony is back!” a voice cheered from within.

“Jesus Christ!” Tony shouted, hand clutched over his heart as he took a step back.

“Tinsy is not Jesus Christ.” The little house elf disagreed. “Tinsy is Tinsy.”

“Right, yes. Of course you are.”

“Does Master Anthony want some dinner? Tinsy has explored and found the pantry very well stocked.”

“Um, yes. Something light, soup maybe?”

The elf bobbed her head excitedly. “Tinsy makes the best soup! Yous sit right there and wait!”

Tony complied and soon a tumbler of scotch appeared at his elbow.

“Your heart beats very fast. Sip slowly.” he was ordered.

A few sips later, he was ready to ask questions. “Tinsy, did Sabine send you?”

“Oh yes,” she chirped, cutting up vegetables while standing on a stool. “Madame Matriarch says you be taking in Little Master Draco and needs much help!”

“I, uh. I wasn't expecting you to arrive until Draco did.”

“Madame Matriarch wants Tinsy to learn your rules and how to care for your home without Little Master about.”

“Ah, I see.” another sip from his glass. “Did Sabine mention that I live among mundanes?”

“She did. Said Tinsy is to stay out of sight of strangers, only appear when Master Anthony says.”

“Yes,” Tony said slowly. “It also means that once in the house, there are things you won't be able to do.”

That caused the elf to stop working and spin towards the human. The knife in her hand was a bit intimidating, but Tony was more afraid of the outrage in her eyes and posture.

“What? What can't Tinsy do!? Tinsy can do everything!”

“Tinsy, please. Calm down and let me explain.” Tony waited until the elf relaxed a little, though he noticed she kept a firm grip on her knife. “The house is in the middle of a mundane neighborhood. They will expect myself or Draco or a lawn service to do the mowing and gardening, especially out front.”

Tinsy was quiet, her eyes squinting at him as she thought. “Only things out front that Tinsy can't do?”

“Yes, only out front. The rest of the house and the back yard have all the keep away spells most wizards use, you'll have free reign there.”

She stared at him intently before slowly nodding and turning back to her work.

“You don't put up with much crap, do you Tinsy?”

“Tinsy is a good elf. I's works hard.”

“I'm sure you do. How long have you been with the family?”

“All Tinsy's life! Born to this family.” She turned to him, a large, proud smile on her face. “Tinsy's babies and grandbabies and great grandbabies all work for Malfoys too.”

“Sounds like you have a large family, won't you miss them?”

The look she sent him was pitying. “Master Anthony is very silly. House Elfs are always connected, never alone.” she gave a disdainful sniff as she dumped vegetables into a large pot. “Unless yous a bad elf and gets freed.”

“Ah,” Tony kept his silence for a moment, knowing he had unfortunately stepped on a sensitive topic. “What about your... uh, mate?”

“Oh, is sad. Elby gets sick and just passes away.”

“I'm very sorry to hear that.”

“It be's a long time now,” the elf's head bobbed a bit sadly. “Asked Madame Matriarch to find me a new home, one without the hurts.”

“Oh. Well, I'm very happy to have you and I'm sure Draco will be too.”

Tinsy's grin was so wide it must have hurt, then she snapped her fingers and poured the finished soup into a bowl, serving Tony quickly.

Another snap of her fingers and another large soup pot appeared upside down on the chair next to him. She nimbly hopped up on the overturned pot to sit with him as he ate.

Tony hummed around the first spoonful, pleased with the flavors Tinsy was able to create. He didn't even have to compliment her, she just smiled at him while he ate.

“I's has gone through the pantry and re-fridg-er-ator,” she sounded out slowly. “Master Anthony has many good foods.”

“Thank-” he started, but was cut off.

“Many good foods. Many bad foods too. Lots of processed sugar and fake flavors. Is bad for Master Anthony and doubly bad for Little Master Draco.”

“Well, I-”

“These foods Tinsy has thrown away.” she stated firmly. 

“Hey!”

“No.” Tinsy replied firmly. “Master Anthony wants chocolates and little cuppy cakes, that is fine. But Master Anthony will eat good chocolates and little cuppy cakes. These things Tinsy makes.”

“Oh.”

“Tinsy will make the food lists, Master Anthony will buy exactly what is on the list.”

“Yeah, I can do that. But um, what about like, beer and soda? You can't be expected to make drinks as well!”

“Master Anthony is very considerate.” The little elf replied happily. “Tinsy can make drinks, but takes much room. More than here, more than at house.” Her brows furrowed as she thought. “Master Anthony may buy these drinks, yes. But may only drink in moderation!” her tiny hand smacked down on the table. “Water and juices, those be best.”

“Right, of course.” Tony agreed, glad he'd be able to keep some vices.

“Tinsy has also watched as you work.”

“Ok, now you're getting creepy.”

“How creepy? Tinsy must know how to best serve Master Anthony,” her head cocked to the side curious.

He waved it away, “what did you learn?”

“Master does not eat well when working. Neither does the others. Tinsy will be making sure Master eats properly.” A firm nod accompanied her statement.

“You know it was never on purpose...” he trailed off.

“Bah. Seen Mean Boss Man take food away. Don't like Mean Boss Man. Seen Little Chubby Man sneak snacks and not share, Scary Lady also sneaks food.”

Tony's mouth dropped open a bit and he stared at her stupidly.

“Eat, Master Anthony. Tinsy is here now.” She patted his hand gently and motioned for him to continue eating.

*****

Tony returned to work the next Monday with a spring in his step. He and Tinsy had had several conversations about what her role would be in the DiNozzo/Paddingon/Malfoy home and they had finally reached an agreement the day before. He also had, for perhaps one of the first times ever, a lovingly packed lunch, waiting for him to enjoy.

He arrived at his desk and tucked away his backpack, keys, and gun before looking about the MCRT desks. Nothing obvious had been changed, though he could see that Xia's computer was on, she just wasn't in sight.

He settled onto his chair and booted up his computer. Checking e-mails would keep him occupied until his new team lead showed up. Then they could decide how the day would be handled.

Halfway through the backlog of e-mails, seriously, how did anything get done around here? He was only out for four days, Xia arrived looked far more at ease than she had when they met.

“Tony, good. You're here. We can decide what to do today.”

An easy smile crossed his face as he greeted her. “I thought coming in a bit early would help you out. The others should be here around nine.” A glance at his computer clock told him they had a little more than half an hour.

“Very good,” Xia agreed easily. “I would like to meet with Agent McGee and Officer David separately, much like I did with you last week. What can keep them occupied until I am done with both?”

“Well,” Tony considered, “they both need to finalize reports for the last case. Even if they stretch that out, they should be done in an hour or so. The van will need to be restocked, there are some alerts on cold cases we can check on. If all else fails, reviewing cold cases will keep everyone busy.”

“Reports first then. If there is time, the van, whoever is not meeting with me will do that. Then the alerts, do I have a list of that? Then cold cases, will you pull some?”

“Sound like a plan. You do have the list, it's in the MCRT group folder on the server, I'll show you how to get to it if you want. I will certainly pull some cases, I can go do that now if you want?”

“Not just yet,” Xia looked at the notebook in her hand. “After lunch, I would like for all of us to go to the firing range. I know from the personnel folders that everyone has recently renewed their certification, but I would like to see it in practice. Then, the gym. I want to see techniques.”

Nodding, Tony made his own notes, “Do you want me to reserve space or have you done it? Or do you want to just wing it?”

“I would prefer reservations. It is not too late, is it?”

“Nah, most teams are used to Gibbs' dragging us down there when we're off active duty. I think we get an automatic reservation when that happens. I know you aren't Gibbs,” he quickly put in, “But it is still the MCRT and sometimes that's all people need to see.”

“At the moment, I see no reason to alter those views. Is there anything else you think we should do?”

“Not the team itself, but you'll want to head down and meet Abby and Ducky.”

“Hmm. Will they be in early?”

Tony clucked his tongue thoughtfully, “Ducky probably will be. He likes to make sure autopsy is the way he left it. Abby, eh. Without any current cases, it's hard to tell. I can check with security, if you want?”

“Please do.” Xia paused, working her lower lip carefully. “When the day is done, I would like to speak with you again, if you are unopposed.”

“Sure, anything in particular?”

“I want to bounce my impressions off you.”

“Not a problem.” Tony smiled at his new boss, thinking this was going much better than expected.

*****

Xia and Tony met for an early dinner once the day was over. All the reports were filed, the van restocked, no new alerts, and no new leads on cold cases. The rest of the day had gone like clockwork, but Tony noticed the slight frown on Xias' face as they settled into a booth at a local diner.

“Xia? What happened?”

She sighed and proceeded to tell him of her meetings while they ate.

Ducky turned out to be very polite. He walked her through his routines, as well as his philosophies about his job and his training for Mr. Palmer. He offered tea and congratulations on her promotion. There was nothing for her to complain about.

Except.

He was nothing like she had been led to believe. There were no rambling stories of his youth. No quick jumps of logic to beat her to a conclusion. She felt safe in saying that Ducky treated her quite professionally, and made it clear through his manner that he wanted nothing more from her.

She could live with that, though the stories were something she was sad to miss out on.

Abby had given her a trainee sticker! Told her that if she worked hard she would be able to lead the team just as well as Gibbs did. Xia was aghast not only at that treatment, having been a team lead for the past eight years in Singapore, but at the shrine o' Gibbs that had erupted in the forensics lab. Every surface was covered with pictures. It was just plain creepy.

Xia had pulled the sticker off her lapel and dropped it in the trash before informing the scientist that she would not be putting up with that treatment. If the other woman didn't like it, she was welcome to talk to HR or the director.

Her meetings with the junior agents weren't much better.

Agent McGee stuttered through most of it, seeming unable to have a whole conversation without tripping over himself. It took almost half the meeting for him to become remotely comfortable. Then all he did was boast about his technology skills, which are good, but he is not the only person in the agency with those skills.

He managed to insinuate that without him, the MCRT wouldn't have been able to solve even a quarter of their cases. His over-developed sense of ego was astounding.

Agent David, on the other hand, had no problems speaking about her role on the team. She went in depth about how it could improve overall if she was given the SFA position. 

Xia couldn’t believe not only her audacity, but the utter gall. David's personnel file indicated that the woman hadn't even attended FLETC! What made her think that she was capable of taking over SFA duties?

She sighed. On top of all that, her rant continued, they were blatantly disrespectful of both Xia and Tony, arguing orders, working slowly. Despite the list that the two veteran agents had come up with, they had barely gotten the van stocked before lunch! That only happened because another team was stocking their van and offered to help.

Their time at the firing range and gym showed Xia that David was overconfident in both her skills with weapons and hand to hand fighting, to the point that she underestimated her opponents, often so much that a well-trained fighter could get the best of her. 

McGee was her complete opposite. The new lead was surprised that the man had managed to pull the trigger on his gun without wetting his pants. 

How the team had managed to solve cases in the past was beyond her.

On top of it all, the director had called her up to talk about her first day. Not once did she ask Xia's opinion of anything, instead she had praised the ingenuity and abilities of the two younger agents. 

The day that had started with such promise ended with the weight of unrealistic expectations.


	5. Rants, Raves, and Riots

OWLs, NEWTs, and classes were over for the year, but a strange tension had invaded the castle. One that kept Draco up most nights, clutching his wand tightly.

Within the dungeons were rumors, the barest whispers of the Dark Lord's plans. All Draco had been able to piece together was that he wanted something out of the Ministry and was going to use Potter to get it.

How and why eluded him. If he hadn't spent the past few months avoiding his family and the expected obligations towards the Dark Lord, he would probably know more. The lack of knowledge made him uneasy, but he was unwilling to bridge the gap necessary to learn what he needed.

All he could do was watch his back and count down the days until the train ride home. The small ring Sabine had sent as a portkey burned a hole in his pocket.

Unknown to Draco, and a large chunk of the school, Harry Potter and his friends were planning how to leave the school to save Sirius Black in the Department of Mysteries. 

*****

Early in the morning on June eighteenth, Albus Dumbledore flooed to Grimmauld Place, the bearer of bad news.

His arrival woke Sirius and Remus from their uneasy slumber, both having fought off the feeling of something being wrong.

“Dumbledore?” Sirius asked as he stumbled down the steps. “What is it? What's wrong? Harry?”

Albus shook his head as he started a pot of tea. “I've had word from Severus and Minerva. Drink your tea, the others will be here soon.”

“The others? Now see here, you'll tell me what's going on-”

“Quiet, Padfoot. Let the man tell us in his own time. It'll do us no good to rush in without information.”

Albus hummed in agreement and they heard the sound of several people arriving via floo.

Joining them in the kitchen was Tonks, Kinglsey, Moody, and surprisingly Andromeda Tonks. None of them looked happy, but Sirius was worried to see Andromeda's ire directed at himself.

“What's happened?” Moody demanded, learning against the door jamb.

“Several students from Griffindor, including Harry, as well as Luna Lovegood are missing from Hogwarts.”

The group began to demand answers over top of each other.

“Quiet, quiet,” Albus requesting soothingly. “We know where they are.”

“Thank Merlin,” Sirius whispered as he sank into a chair. “Where?”

“That's where it becomes a bit trickier.”

“Cut the crap, Albus,” Moody interjected, clearly having no time for Albus' pussy footing. “Tell us what happened.”

“Yes, well. Severus could only send a quick message, the Dark Lord has been planning a way to get into the Department of Mysteries. He wants,” the older man paused to sip his tea. “He wants to get the prophecy about him and Harry.”

“We already know that,” Kingsley mentioned, a mild censure in his voice. “That's why we've been watching that floor.”

“Right. Of course. It seems that Voldemort has become aware of his connection to Harry. He's been using it the past few days to send Harry visions.”

“Visions of what?” Remus said, leaning forward in his chair.

“According to Severus, the visions today showed him torturing Sirius in the Hall of Prophecy. I believe that Harry and his friends have gone to save him.”

“What?” Sirius jumped out of his chair, “We need to go! Voldemort will kill him!” He turned towards the stairs, wandlessly calling his shoes towards him. “What's everyone waiting for?”

“We can't just barge in there with no plans,” Moody argued from his spot at the door.

“Harry needs me!” 

“Yes,” Remus agreed. “He needs you to make smart decisions that are in his best interests. Put your shoes on and sit back down so we can plan.”

The Black Lord grumbled, but complied. Sitting at the table and staring down the others as they planned the best way to save the children.

*****

Once a tentative plan was formed, with their limited knowledge of who would be present, they group began to rise and prepare for their trip to the Ministry.

“Not you, Sirius,” was spoken behind him. He turned to find his cousin pointing her wand at his chest. “You and I are going to have a little chat. Sit.” she ordered, waving her wand towards the chairs in the lounge.

“Andy, this is not the time,” was the feeble protest. Sirius was having flashbacks of his cousins forcing him to participate in their tea parties.

“This is the time. Else I'll do it in front of everyone. Sit.”

He sat roughly on the old fauteuil chair, one that he avoided because of it's stiffness. As soon as his back hit the chair, his cousin hit him with an _incarcerous_.

“Now,” she said after watching Remus and the others depart. “You and I are going to have a chat.”

“I really don't see how now is the time or the place Andy, as your Lord, I insist you let me go.”

“As my lord,” she repeated thoughtfully before negligently waving her hand to tighten his bonds. He fought back a flinch, though he wondered if his arm and the chair's arm could actually fuse together.

“Did you know,” she continued, “that my dear daughter has quite a crush on your friend Remus?”

“I am aware,” came the careful answer.

“Hmm. During your little Order meetings, she'll linger afterward to chat him up. Once it was here in this lounge. She picked up a book he was reading and a letter fell out. My Nymphadora has quite the curiosity on her. She opened it, read it, and brought it home to me.”

Sirius opened his mouth to ask, but she cut him off.

“Let's shelve that for a moment, shall we? Instead, let us turn to the past. My past.” Her hand clenched tightly around her wand, she visibly forced the muscles to relax before continuing. “Meeting Ted was the best thing that ever happened to me,” her smile was wistful. “I had never clicked with another person so quickly or so completely. Not even my sisters.

“We dated in secret for most of our Hogwarts years. Then in seventh year, Mother and Father announced they had betrothed me to Corban Yaxley,” here, her sneer was worthy of their Black ancestors. “That oaf of a man. They may have been willing to overlook it, but all that man wanted was a connection to the Black name and the vaults.

“So Ted and I eloped. I was disowned and we struggled.” She sat heavily on the chair across from her cousin. “Merlin, did we struggle. I had to fight every second to become a mediwitch and even that wasn't enough to get a job at St. Mungo's. Ted lucked out to get that job at Gringott's, it was often all that kept us afloat. No one from my family came to visit. Not even you,” she stated pointedly.

“Nymphadora was a blessing, I would have liked more, but we just couldn't afford it.” She paused to wet her lips, eyes straying to the carpet. Her wand arm never wavered. “I missed out on so much because of that one choice. I don't regret it, not ever. But I've never met my nephew, couldn't be there when Cissy had her miscarriages, missed the warning signs of Bella's insanity.”

“Andy-” Sirius started.

“No.” she glared at him. “I have a point to make. The only way I've learned anything about Draco is because I contacted Minerva. She sends short messages. What classes he's taking, how he did in quidditch, that sort of thing. Then, a month or so ago she brought me some news. That Draco had been acting oddly. Along with some of her cohorts they managed to get copies of some paperwork the boy had on him.”

Sirius barely contained his sneer at the mention of his young cousin.

“It didn't make a lot of sense until Nymphadora brought that letter home. Can you guess what it was, cousin dear?”

“That sad attempt to weasel into my life? To get secrets from the Black vaults and about Harry? That letter?” his tone dripped with contempt.

“Yes,” she replied sweetly. “That letter. Then Minerva sends me a letter detailing his behavior at school. He's withdrawn and stayed over hols. It's easy to see that he's desperate for help, and you denied him!” Her rage made Sirius flinch.

“I refuse to let Malfoy and his bigotry hurt this family or my godson.”

“Which is admirable.” Was the concession, “Until your bigotry puts the family in harm's way!”

“My bigotry?!”

“You didn't even try to talk to him! You did nothing to find out what the truth was, just shunted him aside like week old trash.”

“The day Draco Malfoy sets out to do the right thing is the day I'll eat this chair!”

“How would you know?” she asked quietly. “You met him what, once? After he was born? All you know about him is your own prejudice against his father and what your godson has told you.” She closed her eyes and bit her lip. When her eyes reopened, he could see the tears shining in them. 

“Andy,” he trailed off, clearly unsure what to say.

“You're the Black Lord and your decisions are final, I understand that. But this decision? You've made the wrong one. Now, step up and be the Lord you were raised to be. We'll go help clean up the Department of Mysteries and then you'll start working on a way to contact Draco and provide him with a safe harbor. You understand me?”

He nodded, though he kept to himself that he wasn't sure Draco would want his help now. He could only deal with one crisis at a time and the current one involved saving his godson.

*****

The cousins arrived at the Department of Mysteries and followed the destruction until they reached the Death Chamber. Seeing that Nymphadora and Remus were dueling Bellatrix so close to the Veil, they both held their breath in fear. Shaking his head, Sirius carefully led Andromeda closer to the fighting. With the duelers distracted, he was able to hex his older cousin, pushing her away from not only the Veil, but her enemies. Before he could continue the fight, Voldemort appeared.

The following battle between Voldemort and Dumbledore was awe inspiring. Sirius wasn't too overcome to not keep his godson, cousins, and friends at a safe distance though.

At the end of the battle, after an attempt to possess Harry, Voldemort apparated out with an injured Bella. The Order of the Phoenix and the students were not the only witnesses. Minister Fudge and other officials had finally arrived to check on the alarms.

There was no denying Voldemort's return now. 

*****

The aftermath was chaos. Harry clung to Sirius, fighting back tears and mumbling about seeing him die. All he could do was hug the kid back and reassure him that he was alive and well.

They stood together to watch as Aurors arrived to arrest the remaining Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy. It was on the tip of his tongue to say something snide, but he managed to push down the urge. The elbow to his side from Andromeda certainly helped.

Instead of heading to St. Mungo's for treatment, the whole group took a portkey back to Hogwarts and were immediately seen by Madame Pomphrey.

She quickly set to rights broken bones and mended the various cuts and scrapes the group had collected. The members of the Order of the Phoenix, except for Sirius, all left once Pomphrey was done with them. Sirius joined the children crowding around Harry's bed.

“All right you lot. To your beds, Harry and I need to have a chat.” he shooed them to their own beds patiently waiting as they said their good nights.

Once they were all settled and he had pulled a chair up next to Harry's bed, he put up a privacy spell.

“Harry,” he wet his lips, “why didn't you floo Grimmauld to see if I was there?”

“But I did!” Harry's eyes were wide with remembered panic.

“You did? When?”

“After dinner, Kreacher said you weren't home! With the visions from Voldemort, where else could you be?”

Sirius' eyes closed as he realized what happened. “Kreacher,” he murmured to himself.

“Would Kreacher lie?” Harry asked. “Can he?”

“He can and he could. Yes.” he sighed. “I was forcefully reminded today that I haven't been taking my duties as Black Lord seriously. That will have to change this summer.”

“Change how?”

“Well, pup. First you'll be coming home with me. No more staying with the Dursleys.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Between seeing Voldemort today and my acceptance as Black Lord, there's really no reason for Fudge to continue trying to persecute me. If he does, well. I'll see him in the courts. So you'll be home with me and we'll get some training done, get you ready for this.”

Harry's relieved sigh was perilously close to a sob.

“I don't know what I would have done if you had died.”

Sirius reached out and took Harry's hand. “As horrible as it is to say, pup. You would have kept going. You're too much like your mother sometimes. Nothing short of her own death stopped her. It's the same with you.”

“It would have been hard though,” his godson whispered.

“Pup, Harry, look at me.” Once Harry's eyes met his, he knew only the truth mattered. “No matter what, this prophecy, your destiny, or whatever other bullshit Dumbledore has used to explain all this, it's never going to be easy. The wizards of Britain have okayed letting a child defeat a madman. That is a responsibility that should never have been placed on a child. Not even one as special as you. I'm still here, and I'll do my best to help you in any way possible. My word as a wizard.”

The smile on Harry's face trembled still, but his shoulders relaxed a hair.

“There you go, now. You get some sleep. You'll stay until the end of school and I'll pick you up at King's Cross. It's only a few days and I've got some things to sort out with your aunt and uncle.”

“Don't kill them Padfoot, it's not worth it.”

“That is debatable, but I'll keep it under advisement.”


	6. Home From Hogwarts

The roar within Hogwarts could be felt all the way in the dungeons. It was time to go home for the summer and everyone was excited. In Griffindor Tower, Harry Potter had to repack his trunk three times, his joy at not having to return to the Dursleys meant that he got over excited and just threw his belongings in. Which would have been fine by him, but then Hermione always walked by and tutted at the state of his trunk. To appease her, he began to repack it.

His frantic packing and repacking was accompanied by a stream of chatter as he told his roommates about all the plans he and Sirius had for the summer. For the first time ever, Harry was going on vacation.

The plan was a tour of the Mediterranean, hitting all the big muggle tourist attractions and some wizarding ones on the way. Hermione had already provided a list and lectured him on a couple of ruins in Italy. He was so excited he just let her talk. After the tour, Sirius was going to take him to see all the Black and Potter properties. He said it was past time that Harry learned how to manage his estate. It sounded daunting, but Harry was quivering in excitement.

He was just finishing packing his trunk again when they heard Hermione coming up to their room, before Harry could invite her in, Neville jumped up and slammed his trunk shut.

“It's fine Harry, you take too much longer and we'll miss the train.”

“Oh, right. Sorry Nev.”

“It's ok, let's just head down before Hermione decides to inspect them all.” He nervously eyed the door, hoping the girl hadn't heard him.

“Sounds good, let's go.” Harry turned and opened the door just as Hermione had her hand up to knock.

“Oh,” she breathed. “I was just coming to get you, ready?”

“Yeah, let's go to breakfast so we can get out of here.”

The group trooped down to the common room, collecting Ron, Ginny, and the others as they headed to the Great Hall.

*****

In the Slytherin dungeon, the excitement was more toned down. Several students knew they would be required by their parents to join the Dark Lord. Not all of them were looking forward to it, but had no firm compunction against it. 

Draco dithered, waiting for his roommates to head to the common room before calling on Wixy to shrink his trunk.

“I be heres Little Malfoy.” said the elf as he appeared.

“Hi Wixy, can you shrink my trunk for me?”

“I's be doing that.” With a snap of his fingers, the trunk shrunk down to the size of a matchbox. “Here you ares, Little Malfoy.”

“Thanks Wixy, I appreciate it.”

Just as Draco stuffed his trunk into his pocket, Dobby appeared with a deep scowl on his face.

“What is this? Strange elf here? No sir, we's be taking care of the trunks, not strange elfs.”

“Uh, Dobby,” Draco hedged.

Dobby's big eyes moved from Draco to Wixy to the shrunken trunk still in Draco's hand.

“Ohhhh,” he breathed. “Little Master Draco be leaving.”

“Dobby,” Draco whispered. “You mustn't tell anyone.”

The house elf nodded his head frantically. “Dobby keeps this secret. From everyone.”

Draco sighed with relief and continued putting his trunk in his pocket, he turned to Wixy. “Thank you, you can head home now.” Wixy bowed and popped out. Then Draco turned to Dobby. “Could you, could you take a note to Mother?”

“Dobby can do this.”

The young man turned to his desk, pulling a letter out of a drawer. “You'll have to be careful,” he explained, passing the note over. “Father can't see you at all. And... you'll have to wait until after the train gets to King's Cross.”

Accepting the letter, Dobby stared at Draco, his eyes showing far more wisdom than Draco was comfortable with. “Dobby will do this thing, give the letter to Mistress Narcissy later tonight, stay away from Bad Master Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Dobby,” Draco paused as he considered his next words. “I'm- I'm sorry for how things were. I hope you're happier now.”

The house elf's eyes grew large. “Little Master Draco say sorry?! Oh, Dobby is so happy now. Dobby hopes little Master Draco will also be happy.”

“I'm going to try,” agreed the wizard.

“Draco?” There was a tapping on the door and Dobby popped out before it opened.

“Draco?” Theo's head popped into the room, “It's almost time to go, are you ready?”

“Yeah, I'm ready.” Draco turned to look over the dorm he'd slept in for the past five years. A feeling of melancholy settled over him. He shook himself and took a minute to regain his comportment, then followed Theo out of the room.

*****

For Harry, the trip to King's Cross was, for the first time in his experience, not a grim one. He was still a bit unsure what to think of the whole thing. Being able to live with Sirius, who clearly cared about him, was a dream come true. There was a small part in the very back of his mind that made him nervous. Would Sirius continue to like him when they were together for more than a few days at a time? With no one to make things smooth? What if it turned out to be worse than living with the Dursleys?

No, Harry couldn't afford to think that way. For one, he would have access to all of his things, nothing would be locked in the cupboard. For two, Hedwig would be free, and she always made him feel better. Finally, he would actually get to see his friends instead of relying on their letters.

Yes, this summer was going to be the best of his life. He would savor every minute of it.

When the train finally arrived at the station, everyone disembarked into the bewildering crush of people coming and going.

No one noticed that one student quietly slipped out a door on the opposite side of the train, avoiding the platform completely.

*****

Hopping down out of the train, Draco took a deep breath and glanced around nervously. It was easy to let himself be separated from his friends on the train. First years were always overly excited to get home for their summer break, letting a group barge ahead of him was a snap. Waiting for everyone to clear out of his car was a bit harder, but it was accomplished soon enough. 

Now he stood, clutching the portkey ring in his hand, fighting to build the courage needed to utter the activation word.

Another deep breath, “choices,” he said quietly before disappearing from King's Cross station.

He reappeared in the garden of a small stone cottage. Looking around nervously, he made his way towards the front door to knock. Before his fist could make contact, the door opened and an older man ushered him in. 

“Come in, come in. Have a seat, tea?” Words were thrown at him and Draco sat on the indicated sofa. A cup of tea appeared in front of him.

“There now, have a sip. It's been a nerve-wracking day, yes?” The older man sat across from him and smiled. “I'm Clive Paddington, we're distantly related.”

Draco carefully sipped his tea and eyed the man carefully. While not as white as his, the man's hair was a shade of blond. There was something in the point of his chin that reminded Draco of portraits in the family hall.

“How?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, it goes back several generations. But my mother is a Malfoy by birth.”

“Then you should have gone to Hogwarts, shouldn't you have?”

“Mum is a great lady, but she doesn't think much of Hogwarts education-wise. Sent myself, my brother and sister to Beauxbatons.”

Draco nodded. “Mother wanted me to go there or Durmstang.” he took another sip of his tea. “What's going to happen now?”

“Well,” Clive sat back in his chair, putting an ankle up on his left knee. “First, we're going to go through all your things to make sure there are no tracer spells. Actually, we should do that now before continuing. Your trunk, please?”

Pulling his trunk out of his pocket, Draco set it on the floor in front of the fireplace. He watched as his cousin pulled out his wand and cast several spells, many that he had never seen done before, on everything that Draco had with him.

Several items lit up, Draco stared at them in horror.

“Well now,” Clive murmured. He carefully pulled the items out. The first was a book, one of Draco's Defense texts, the other was a set of cufflinks with a matching tie pin.

“Father gave me those for my birthday last year. The tie pin was his gift this year.”

“I'm sorry to hear that m'boy.” A few more waves of his wand and Clive sat back down. “The spells are strong, so I've got them contained for the minute. Unfortunately the only way to stop the spells is to destroy the items.”

Swallowing hard, Draco turned to fully face his cousin. “Does the spell contain a vital tracker?”

“Ah, good question,” Clive said, clearly impressed. A few moments more of work and Clive put away his wand. “They do not. We are lucky with that. Else the destruction of the items would make your father think you were dead. That would bring us more difficulty than we need.”

“Alright,” Draco said, trying to sound braver than he felt. “Now that's done, what else?”

“You aren't going to like this bit,” Clive warned. “We need to destroy your wand.”

Draco blinked. “What? I'm sorry, did you say-”

“You didn't mishear me.” he sighed and began to explain. “Because of the Trace that the Ministry puts on underage wizard's wands, your wand needs to be destroyed. We believe that if your father or Voldemort gets a bee in their bonnet, they could use the spell to find you.”

“It has to be destroyed?” Draco asked plaintively. He had pulled his wand out and was staring at it. “We can't just hide it?”

“That course was considered. However, it still has the risk of being found and traced to anyone who might know where you are. As painful as it is, it's better to destroy it.” Clive cocked his head suddenly. “Since you reached out to Sabine, has your wand worked as well as it used to?”

Draco slowly placed his wand on the table next to his empty tea cup as he considered his answer. “I don't want to say it didn't work properly. But now that you mention it, it often felt like I had to pull harder on it. If that makes sense.”

Clive nodded. “I do understand what you meant. Something similar happened to me when I was younger, I nicked my mum's wand to play with. She was not amused.”

“I might really need a new wand,” Draco sounded out slowly.

“You might. From here,” Clive turned businesslike. “you will take another portkey and join our Matriarch in France. She's called in a dear friend of hers to supply you with a new wand. I happen to know the wandmaker is hoping to marry Sabine's younger daughter. Once you're supplied with a new wand and get a good night's sleep, you'll be boarded onto an airplane and sent to your final destination.”

“An airplane?” Draco asked, aghast. “That's the muggle metal bird thing, yes?”

Clive smiled. “Yes, do give it a chance, they can be quite comfortable. I suggest you take some gum or something to chew with you to help pop your ear drums.”

“My ears?” his hands raised to cover his ears.

“It has something to do with air pressure. I admit I don't fully understand it myself. I do know that you will not be alone, our Matriarch has many connections and one of the flight attendants is in the know, as it were, and they will assist you in any way possible.”

Nodding, Draco thought on what else the man had said. “Do, do you know where I'm going?”

“I have my suspicions, but have not been directly informed. If you are going where I think you are, you will be safe.”

“I'm afraid.” Draco admitted quietly.

“Ah, m'boy,” Clive stood up to kneel in front of his very distant cousin. “You made a difficult choice and the future is a bit unsure. Do remember that the people helping you only want the best for you. It is not going to be easy, but I believe the outcome of this choice will benefit you for years to come.”

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Now, do you want a snack before you head out? No, perhaps not, international portkeys are a bit more nauseating than regular ones. You might want to wait to eat until you are in France. Now,” he stood up and briskly moved to a desk. “If you're ready?”

Draco heaved out a sigh and stood. “My trunk?” 

“Ah, quite right.” Clive pulled out his wand and shrunk the trunk so Draco could pocket it. “Now, I'll be keeping your belongings,” he indicated the items he had pulled out earlier, “and your wand, and destroy them after you leave. Then I'll be heading back to my own home and we shan’t speak of this to anyone. Questions?”

“Will we ever meet again?”

“Oh, lad. I am quite sure we will. See, when you return after this little spat, things will be quite different.” Clive smiled and clasped both of his hands on Draco's shoulders. “Remember that your family is here for you. Just do your best.”

“Thank you, for everything you've done.”

“That's a chap. Now, here's your portkey. It's a timed one, so it'll take you in about twenty seconds. You've got everything yes?”

Draco nodded and stood straighter, waiting for the portkey to activate. When it did, he discovered that international portkeys were much worse than he thought.

*****

He remained in one spot with his eyes closed for what felt like an eternity. Once his nausea settled, he cautiously opened his eyes. In front of him was an older woman wearing a welcoming smile on her face. It had been years since they had last met, but he recognized the Malfoy Matriarch in an instant.

“Oh, Draco,” she greeted and pulled him into a hug.

He briefly considered resisting, but instead leaned further into her and let his eyes close. Her scent was calming and brought to mind safety and fresh baked bread. A few more minutes of peace wouldn't ruin anything.

He felt more than heard Sabine sigh and she slowly released him from her hug. “It's been quite a year for you, hasn't it?”

Nodding numbly, he could barely bring himself to meet her eyes, instead looking about the property.

“Not much to see,” she commented idly, “we're on the back half of the estate. The lake that great-great-grandfather Cyril built the cabin on is past those trees,” she indicated the way with her hand. “We're going to be using a small guest house, so as not to bring about any suspicion. You left your wand, correct?”

“Yes ma'am. Clive kept it and a few things out of my trunk.”

Shaking her head, Sabine led the way to the previously mentioned house. “It's quite sad that your parents felt they needed to monitor you so. On one hand, I do understand it.” She opened the door and gestured Draco in, then settled them both on sofas. “There were times when my children were younger that I felt I needed to know everything they planned to do. On the other hand, no one likes to be watched like that.” She looked her young cousin in the eyes. “Let us give them the benefit of the doubt and assume it was because they are worried about you.”

Another nod and he swallowed noisily. “What happens now?”

“Well, we're going to have some dinner. I'm going to introduce you to a wandmaker whom I trust and who has also agreed to make your new wand and be obliviated. After that, you're going to try and get a good night's sleep. Your flight to America leaves at one in the afternoon tomorrow, so we'll have plenty of time to get to the airport and explain things to you.” she smiled, “Are you hungry?”

“Not... not really. My stomach is all.. queasy.”

“I imagine. How about a light soup and some fresh bread? You need to eat something.”

“That sounds acceptable.” Draco agreed.

*****

Once their supper was cleared away, Sabine ushered in the wandmaker, a stout man from Italy named Uberto Tosto.

“Ah, Sabine,” the man enthused, hands flying as he talked. “Is this my mystery client?” He turned and looked the boy up and down. “Definitely a Malfoy, you need a new wand, yes? I shall help. Up, up! Stand up straight so I may measure you!”

Draco hesitantly stood in front of the man and found himself towering over the Italian.

“Pssh, No worries on height, yes? Greatness does not mean tallness. You remain as tall as you can.” 

A slight smile pulled at Draco's lips as he wanted the man pull out his measuring tape and a pad of paper.

“Sabine, she tells me that it is best if I do not remember this. So, I shall make you new wand and send you on your way. But! I need notes to make proper wand. You shall be listed under anonymous number 47. If ever you need something, come to me with that number. Remember it, yes?”

“Yes, sir.” Draco agreed.

“Ah, such a good boy. Now, what does my measurements tell me about you?” Uberto hummed as he consulted with his notes. He muttered to himself in Italian and pulled out his wand toolkit. Pulling out four blank wand shafts, he held them out towards Draco. “I can narrow it down to these, please, feel them. Let me know what you think.”

Draco carefully lifted each bit of wood. Two made him feel warm inside, one made him feel as if he had woken from a long nap. The last, the last made him take a deep breath and a smile spread across his face.

“Wonderful!” Uberto cheered. “Is redwood, very good for people who make the right choices.” He met Draco's surprised look head on. “Good things will come to you.” He turned back to his notations to select the possible cores. Here, he only produce two. “Take these, tell me what you think. The first is a white river monster spine, the second is horned serpent horn. Which do you like?”

Draco's eyes darted to Sabine, who was sitting quietly nearby. He slowly reached out to touch the two cores. His fingers hesitated briefly over the serpent horn, but he was drawn towards the spine.

“Hm, yes, another good choice. Your spells will be strong, yes. A good wand.” Uberto turned to craft together the parts, using his measurements to make the additional adjustments.

When he was done, he presented Draco with an eleven and a half inch redwood wand with a white river monster spine core. It was surprisingly springy.

“A new wand for a new you, eh my friend?” His smile was large as Draco took hold of his new wand. “Yes, yes, now try. A simple lumos will tell us how it fits.”

Draco wet his bottom lip, but carefully pronounced the spell. “ _Lumos_.” The tip of his wand glowed a bright yellow color. It lit up the deepest corners of the small house. Draco felt peace settle into his bones for the first time since the previous September.

“Thank you,” he breathed as he ended the spell. “It's perfect.”

“You are most welcome.” Uberto turned to Sabine. “Now, you must obliviate me and send me off to tea with the lovely Joelle.”

“Of course,” Sabine rose from her seat and led the man outside. She returned shortly and found Draco had taken a seat and was staring at his wand. “Are you ok?”

“What? Oh, yes. It's.” he huffed out a breath. “When I first got my other wand, I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world. Father wasn't thrilled with the core, unicorn hair being too pure for his tastes. But it fit my hand so well and I thought it would be mine forever. This wand feels like it was waiting for me, even if it didn't exist yet.”

“Perhaps it was waiting for you to be worthy of it.”

He turned wide eyes to her. “Do you think I am?”

“I think you're well on your way.” She smiled, pride shining from her eyes. “Now, it is late and you need your rest. You have your choice of rooms, I'll be staying down here on the sofa.”

“You don't have to do that,” he protested.

“I do not have to,” she agreed. “But I want to. I will keep an eye on you and make sure you are up at a reasonable time tomorrow. Go. Sleep well.”

Draco finally nodded, bidding her goodnight and head up the stairs. So much had changed, but he felt as if he could handle anything that came his way.


	7. New Frontiers

Draco was lightly shaken awake by a nervous looking house elf.

“Wixy is sorry Little Master Malfoy, but Matriach Malfoy be saying it is time to get up.”

Groaning, Draco flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling.

“Is Little Master Malfoy awake?”

“Ugh, yes.” he sat up with a yawn and scratched his head. “Please tell her I'll be down shortly.”

Wixy nodded and left with a soft pop. Taking a moment, Draco forced himself out of bed and into a hot shower. Once he felt more human, he returned to his room. There, on the nightstand was his brand new wand. It was still unbelievable to him that so much had happened in just a day's time.

He was really out of England and would soon be out of the reach of his father and the Dark Lord. Hopefully.

Blowing out a breath, he quickly repacked his things in his trunk and took up his wand, carefully sliding it into the wrist holster he wore. Then he headed down for breakfast and more news about his day.

He found Sabine sitting at a small breakfast nook, a variety of food in front of her.

“Ah! Draco, good morning, pastry?”

“Good morning and please.” He settled down in an empty chair and reached for a cup of tea to go with his breakfast.

They ate in silence before Sabine gave a satisfied sigh and pushed herself away from the table.

“We are now going to talk about what's going to happen today and who you are meeting in America.”

Draco nodded, finishing his bite of food. He found once he swallowed, his appetite was gone.

“You'll be taking an airplane from the Charles De Gaulle Airport in Paris. You have nothing to worry about. Mundanes have worked very hard to making flying safe, though it may not be comfortable.”

“Clive said something about gum and air pressure?”

“Yes. The higher you go the more pressure is put on your inner ear. Chewing gum or swallowing helps to relieve the pressure. Some people have very minor difficulties, others have extreme pain. Unfortunately there is not much that can be done. We will be providing you with a potion that will help with the pressure so you won't have much to worry about there.”

Draco nodded, some of his nervousness receding.

“Planes themselves are fairly cramped. The airlines, the companies that own the planes, are trying to make a profit, so they fit as many seats on a plane as they can to make the most money.”

That made sense to Draco, making money often made people uncomfortable.

“To the best of my knowledge,” Sabine continued, “No magical person has taken up a career in aviation, that's the fancy word for planes and flying,” she explained at Draco's look. “This means there is no simple way to give yourself more space using magic. It could be noticed by the mundanes or mess up the balance of the plane itself. I advise against it.”

He nodded, picking up a muffin to nibble on.

“Security in an airport is quite tight these days. You'll go through a metal detector, which is a mundane machine that lets them see if you are carrying anything that may cause harm, such as a knife or a gun.”

“Will I need to hide my wand?”

Sabine pursed her lips. “Yes. If you leave it in your carry-on bag, you should be fine. It'll get you through security and then you can put it back in your holster. We'll be putting your wand back in its box, that way it will look more like a novelty gift if any of the security people decide to look.”

Draco nodded again, though the thought of being without his wand made him uneasy. Sabine must have recognized that because she put her hand on his.

“Your carry-on bag, which is a small bag that will contain a change of clothes, your identification, and some in-flight entertainment will be with you at all times. Do not ever leave it somewhere unattended.”

He again nodded, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

“We've lucked out with the way your government works. They have no regulations for how to deal with mundane international travel. We do not believe that anyone will even think to look at the airports. Especially not airports in another country. The flight will take you about twelve hours, give or take for any delays before you leave.”

Now he blinked. “That quickly? I'm going across the Atlantic, aren't I?”

“You are indeed. I told you, mundanes have done much to improve their modes of transportation. Now, it's not as fast as a portkey or apparating, but we need to keep you in the eye of the government and services that mundanes use. Speaking of,” Sabine stood and crossed over to the desk, picking up a manila folder before returning. “Here are your identifications. A birth certificate, your national insurance number, a passport, along with a visa, and some more paperwork with all the information needed about your new custodian.”

Carefully taking the folder, Draco opened it and stared at the mishmash of papers inside. “Do I need to understand all this?” he asked tremulously.

“No, my darling. You do not. A great deal of this paperwork is to establish you in the mundane world. A downside to the isolation that the British have preached for years is that you do not exist outside of it. With those, you now exist and can travel worldwide.”

He let out a relieved sigh and pulled out one of the papers, which turned out to be his birth certificate. Reading it, he frowned.

“Sabine? This has the wrong name. I'm not a Paddington. That was Clive's last name.”

“You are not and yes it is. The-,” she cut herself off. “No, let me start again. It's a lot to take in, and I'm sorry for that. But the quicker we move, the less chance that your father or Voldemort will find you.”

Flinching slightly at the name, Draco nodded in agreement and put the folder aside. “You haven’t told me yet who I will be living with.”

“You are correct, I have not.” she took a moment to adjust her coffee to her taste before continuing. “I want you to know, Draco, that I put a lot of thought and research into where to send you and who to send you to. My final decision actually argued with me, but we eventually agreed.”

“Who is it?” he asked, eyes wide.

“A distant cousin of yours. He's Clive's nephew. Named Anthony DiNozzo. He lives in Washington DC, the capital of America, where he works for a federal agency.”

“Is he a wizard?”

“He is.”

“Does he want me?”

“I'll be honest with you Draco. He didn't at first. He has no experience with children and is deeply afraid of doing irreparable damage. It didn't take me that long to talk him around and I truly believe he wants you with him and is going to do his damnedest to keep you happy and safe. Are you ok with that?”

Draco thought quickly. His own father had no compunction against making Draco do what was best for the name, the fortune. He never really thought about what made Draco happy or what was needed for Draco to be safe. That a stranger is worried about damaging him was... astronomical.

“What's he like?”

Sabine laughed and refilled her coffee before telling the boy almost everything she knew about the man he would be living with.

*****

Narcissa Malfoy sat in her rose garden, staring at nothing.

The day before she had gone to collect her son from King's Cross, to have him with her for the summer. He never left the train. She had waited until all the other families were gone, until the train itself went into storage. No sign of her son. 

Returning home with a heavy heart, she had sent an owl to the school, she had also flooed Severus. Both Severus and the Headmaster had assured her that Draco had boarded the train at Hogwarts. They even contacted his friends and they claimed he had been in the same cabin with them until the train pulled into the station.

Her son had disappeared and no one knew where he was.

She had tried the location spells that were on some of his belongings, nothing came up. In fact, she was fairly certain the items had been destroyed. How and why Draco thought to look for such spells was something she would worry about another day. 

What else could she do? She had sent an owl to the Ministry, asking for someone to trace his wand. So far, there was no word.

Now, she found her mind wandering. 

Instead of planning what action to take next, where to look next, who to badger for information, her mind was skipping over half heard and barely remembered words: ban, obsequious, coulrophobia, voracious, fanatical, lament.

She wondered if they had anything in common, if they were a clue for her search.

Her mental meanderings were halted when a familiar house elf popped in front of her.

“Dobby?” She asked, incredulously.

“Yes, Mistress Narcissy.” The little elf bobbed a bow and nervously rubbed at his ear.

“What are you doing here?”

“I's have a note. From Little Master Draco.”

“From Draco?” she repeated. “Hand it over!”

The elf pulled a thick envelope out of thin air and passed it over. Narcissa took it, her fingers trembling. There on the front, in her son's elegant script was a simple word. Mother.

She clutched the letter to her breast, “Thank you Dobby,” she appeared lost for words for a moment. “Go to the kitchens for a snack,” she invited. “I believe Demy is there today.”

Dobby's ears perked up at the invitation to visit with his own mother. A quick bob and he left the older woman alone.

Standing, Narcissa left the gardens and headed inside to her warded study. She highly doubted the letter her son sent was going to be innocuous. Better to be safe.

She settled on a comfortable chair, a fresh pot of tea on the table and cup within reach. Taking an extra moment, she erected several more wards to ensure her privacy, despite being the only human currently in the Manor.

Only then did she open the letter.

_Dearest Mother,_  
_Of all the letters I've written this year, this is the most difficult. The words are fighting me, even though I know what I want to say. I have no idea how to say them without hurting you. I fear there is no way to avoid that._  
_When school started this year, I was dismayed and afraid when I learned that Amelia Brontly had taken the mark. My fear increased when I learned about Henry McMartin. I realized, hiding in my bed after hours, that I did not want the mark. I do not want the mark._  
_With Father's connection to the Dark Lord, I know that my choice is not going to be accepted easily. Father has often spoken about what he sees as a great future for me._  
_I can't give you too many details, as I fear the knowledge will fall into the wrong hands. Suffice to say, I have been in contact with someone who has offered to help me. With their help, I will be leaving Great Britain and living somewhere else._  
_I hope to return as soon as I can, but I fear the realities of our situations will not make my return as simple as I would like._  
_I'm not sure if writing you was the best course of action, but I could not leave you without some acknowledgment. I don't want you to worry too much._  
_I love you. I miss you. Please stay safe._  
_Love Always,_  
_Draco_

A breath shuddered out of her as she lowered the letter to the table. He was safe. So very safe. Safe from his father, from Voldemort, from Dumbledore.

A smile tugged at her mouth. He precious son, as spoiled and opinionated as he could be, found a solution to his problem on his own. She had never been more proud.

She read the letter several more times, tracing Draco's signature with her eyes and her fingers. When she decided she could glean no more information from it, she pulled out her wand and destroyed it. Best that there be no evidence of communication between the two.

She considered the ashy remains on her desk as she thought. Perhaps it was time for her to reconnect with some of her family. It was never too late for a family reunion.


	8. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Sabine side along apparated Draco to a small closet in the airport Hilton. This room allowed magicals to come and go from the area without drawing attention to themselves. Once out in the open, the two boarded a shuttle. Draco's trunk had been cleverly transfigured into a large, grey wheeled duffel bag. He would deny it to his dying day, but Draco had taken great delight in wheeling the bag about the guest house before Sabine chided him that they would be late.

The bag had several secret compartments to hide any magical paraphernalia, leaving only his clothing, toiletries and a few books visible. He was using a green backpack for his carry on, which contained all the things Sabine had recommended earlier that day. He also had several classic books he hadn't had the opportunity to read before and a set of headphones. Sabine said they would help block out any disturbing noises to let him sleep. He thought they were going to make him look ridiculous, but refrained from saying that out loud.

They arrived at the airport terminal and Draco followed Sabine as she led him to the check in desks. Then his suitcase was thrown on a convey belt thing, which looked really neat and he wanted to ride on it. A quelling look told him to not even mention it. They headed towards the security check point. 

At the security line, Sabine took a moment to explain to the guard that he was a first time flyer and moving to another country. They took pity on her and allowed them both to go through. He placed his bag on yet another conveyor belt, amazed at how common the things were, and emptying his pockets into a small plastic bin. Then he followed Sabine through the metal detector itself. To him, it looked a bit like a random doorway in the middle of the floor. No noise was made by either of them, so they collected their belongings and moved on to his gate.

They settled onto two of the most uncomfortable chairs Draco had ever seen. Even the chairs in Severus' office were softer than this! He voiced those thoughts to Sabine, who laughed.

“I think they do it on purpose, that way people aren't inclined to try and live in an airport.”

“Who would want to do that?”

“You'd be surprised what people are sometimes driven to. Now, you've got your boarding pass and all your identification. Do you have any questions before you get on the plane?”

His leg bounced as he considered. “You're sure Tony will be there?”

“I think he would rather be tortured than miss meeting you.”

*****

It seemed a short time later that Draco found himself seated in the first class section of his very first airplane. The seats themselves were comfortable, very much like the lounge chairs that were in a couple of the family rooms in the manor. There was plenty of space and there was only one other seat next to him. 

Sabine had gotten him a window seat, telling him that the view would be wonderful, especially since he loved flying on his broomstick.

For now, all he could see was the... airplane parking lot. There was a lot of paved road, though he could see some people working and little funny shaped cars driving about. Being on the airplane itself was odd. There was almost the faintest hint of an echo, some instinct in him knew he was inside a metal tube. The smell was odd, overly clean or something like that. He could also feel air being forced out of the little vents in the ceiling. 

The entire feeling was unsettling and reminded him of the one time he accidentally got locked in one of Severus' ingredient closets.

His thoughts were disrupted when a person settled into the seat beside him. He turned to watch, wary of all the muggles he now found himself surrounded by.

“Oof,” the older lady groaned as she settled into her seat. “Ah, nothing like first class seating, am I right dear?” she asked Draco in French.

“I guess?” he answered hesitantly.

“Oh, dear. Is it your first time on a plane?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“And so polite! Your accent is impeccable, my dear. Gracious.” she settled herself more comfortably in her seat before turning to him again. “Pardon my manners, I am Solange Allard. I am traveling to American to visit my daughter and her family. They live in Nevada. How about yourself?”

“Um, Draco M- uh, Paddington. I'm going to live with a cousin in Washington D.C.”

“Ah,” Solange hummed knowingly. “Troubles at home?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“Well, you don't need to share, but I'm glad you've someplace to go.”

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You've nothing to be worried about.” she continued. “Flying is a breeze these days. Once we're all boarded, the flight attendants will go over some safety instructions, then we'll take off. That feels a bit jerky sometimes. Once we start going up is when a lot of people get ear aches, but it tends to go away for most once we level off.”

“My aunt says gum will help.”

“It can yes. Did you bring any?”

“Yes, she stocked my backpack.” he admitted.

“For a first-time flyer, that's probably best. Anyway, we'll get a meal and a snack. Drinks are pretty consistent. The restroom is right up there,” Solange pointed towards the front of the plane. “And unless the seat belt light is on, you can get up whenever you like. I highly recommend doing so once or twice an hour. It's not good for your legs to sit for so long.”

Their conversation was cut short as the flight attendants stepped to the front of the aisle to begin the safety speech. Draco listened raptly, intent on absorbing all the information necessary.

*****

Three hours into the flight, Draco's ears had only a slight echo of a twinge of pain. The gum had helped, as had the heated towels the flight attendants provided. He was several chapters deep in a book about airplanes, their history, the mechanics, and future innovations when Solange's mutterings brought him back to the cabin.

“It's just not right,” she muttered, glaring at a newspaper.

“Hm? Solange, what isn't right?”

“Oh, this,” she showed him the newspaper, but he couldn't read the headline.

“What language is that?” He asked, brow furrowed.

“Arabic, lovely language. They have some very good news sources and I like to keep up with these things. But this article,” she pointed to a section on the page. “Is about a boodler! Now, I know there are many within governments, but I would like to think most keep such things under the table! But no, this idiot had to go and be obvious about it!”

“I don't understand. What's a boodler?”

“A boodler, my dear, is someone who takes bribes. Particularly politicians.”

“Would the person paying the bribe be a boodle-e?”

Solange laughed, folding the paper away. “If only. No, the person paying the bribe is usually just a corrupt person who can't be bothered to achieve their ends legally.”

“Huh,” was Draco's only comment, his eyes straying back down to his book.

He didn't read another word for a while. Just sat and thought about his father's dealings in the Ministry.

*****

The remainder of the flight went smoothly. Draco was even able to sleep for a few hours. Although the closer they got to America, the more tense he became.

Solange sensed his unease and did her best to distract him with stories of her children and grandchildren. Her teeth cut a bright white line across her dark skin as she laughed at her memories.

Her stories kept him distracted enough that he barely noticed the time as it flew by. The view out his window had become boring within a short time, all he could see was ocean. He couldn't even see that clearly enough to make out anything on the water. The clouds were pretty colors and moved along the plane as if he could reach out and touch them.

But now, as they were slowly descending to land in his new country, he could make out more and more of the ground. Large swatches of fields in various colors, houses and roads as little more than dots on a canvas.

He was slowly able to make out people, though they were tiny and blurry. Then, as if they had turned a page in a book, they were above a city and winging towards the airport.

The time had come. Draco would soon be going to his new home.

*****

Going home with Sirius instead of the Dursleys was a dream come true. He was met at the station, taken out for dinner before finally returning to Grimmauld place. Of course, the place was less than appealing and Harry tried to come up with a delicate way to bring it up.

Sirius led him up to his new room, levitating his trunk behind them.

“This use to be Regulus' room. I thought you'd like it,” Sirius led his godson in to a room that was decorated in muted colors.

“No Griffindor colors?”

“Ah, yeah. Well, Moony thought you would prefer something a little more low key.”

“I do, it's great. Thank you.”

Sirius settled on the bed and looked around the room. “This is a bit weird, isn't it?”

“Yes!” Harry blurted out. “I'm sorry Sirius, I'm so happy to be here, but it's just... not what I'm used to.”

“Me neither,” Sirius sighed. “We'll work it out together. We've got a few days before our vacation starts. I was thinking you could help me clean up a bit. I didn't notice how dank the old place is.”

“Oh, thank goodness. I wasn't sure if I should say anything.”

The older man laughed. “Say something if you're not happy, I want you to be happy here. But yeah, I didn't really notice my surroundings when I was in hiding. Moony could live in a hole in the ground and be happy.”

“Where is Remus?”

“He's off on a mission for the Order.” Sirius waved a hand negligently, but Harry could see the worry in his eyes.

“Um. You're not going to be on any missions, are you?” 

“No. I've made it clear to Dumbledore and everyone else that my priority is you, even when you're in school.” Sirius laughed again at the relief on his godson's face. “There, nothing to worry about. Now, how about I give you a tour and we figure out what we want to do with the place?”

Harry nodded and followed Sirius out the room.

*****

They were in a little used study on the first floor when Fawkes appeared before them carrying a scroll. Sirius frowned, but took the letter, waiting until the phoenix had left before opening it.

“What is it?”

“An emergency Order meeting has been called for tonight. No explanation.”

Harry sighed, “I guess I'll head upstairs.”

“None of that, come with me.” Sirius led Harry up the stairs, but instead of going to his room, he took him to another room. “This was my parents' room. For obvious reasons, I'm not comfortable sleeping here. But, Mother was quite paranoid.” he turned to a tapestry and pulled it away from the wall. Behind it, was a hole, not much larger than a snitch. 

Harry glanced at it, then turned back to Sirius. “What is this?”

“A way for you to listen in on the meeting without anyone noticing.”

With a jerk, Harry's head swung towards Sirius. “Really?”

“Yes. It also means we can safely tell them that you are upstairs and busy without lying.”

“This is great! Thank you!” Harry hugged Sirius before turning to move a chair closer to the tapestry.

“One thing, Harry.”

“What's that?”

“For the time being, I think it would be best if you don't tell Ron or Hermione.”

Harry's mouth moved, but nothing came out. “I... I guess?”

“Just, not yet. Ok?”

He bit his lip. “Yeah, ok.”

“Good, I'm going to head down and make sure Kreacher has cleaned the kitchen. I'm sure Molly will complain if he hasn't.”

*****

Harry settled in on his chair in the darkened room. After Sirius left, he had lit a couple candles, but otherwise the room was dark. He heard the distinctive pops of people apparating in as well as the jumble of people greeting each other.

If he listened hard, he could make out the voices of Mrs. Weasley's, Professor McGonagall, Auror Shacklebolt, and Mad-Eye Moody.

The clink of cups told him that tea was being prepared and served. It took several minutes before Headmaster Dumbledore arrived, though the conversation remained banal while the older man got settled.

“Alright,” he began, “Since this was such short notice, we've only got a small group today. I'm not expecting miracles, more passing on information.”

“Albus, what happened?” McGonagall snapped.

A sound of a sigh and a cup being set on it's saucer. “Draco Malfoy is missing.”

“What?” McGonagall sounded alarmed, though Harry thought the disappearance of the other boy was hardly worth it. “He got on the train, I know he did.”

“He did indeed. Was on the train, rode with his friends. When they got to the station, he disappeared. Narcissa is quite worried and has contacted myself and several people in the Ministry.”

“Have they found anything?” Shacklebolt asked. Harry briefly wondered how the auror had been kept out of the loop.

“Not a thing. There are no magical signature or anything to denote apparition, ignoring the fact that Draco hasn't learned how to apparate. No other students are missing, no one suspicious was seen at the platform.

“Likely had a portkey,” Moody groused.

“Yes, but where did he get it and where did it take him?”

“What can we do?” Mrs. Weasley asked carefully.

“Keep an eye out for the boy. I'm hoping that he did not go directly to Voldemort.”

Sirius snorted. “Why would he need a portkey for that? All he has to do is go home and floo Bella.”

“This is true,” Dumbledore allowed. “For now, just spread the word among Order members. I truly believe that Draco wants out, we just need to give him that opening.”

The meeting broke up after a few more moments of discussion. Once all the noise was gone, Harry sat back and thought.

Where could Draco have gone? How did he do it? What did it mean for Harry, his friends, and their fight against Voldemort?

Sirius entered and broke off his thought process. “What do you think, Pup?”

Harry shook his head. “I have no idea. Malfoy's been acting off all year. Hermione has ranted at length about his change in behavior.” he sighed. “I don't know what he's up to. I don't know if there is anything I can or want to do. He's... he's not my problem.”

Sirius nodded as he sat in a chair. “You're right. You've enough on your plate. This thing with Malfoy, we'll figure it out.”

They sat together in silence, both thinking of all the changes made. Sirius wondered briefly if that letter he had received the previous year would be of any help, but discarded that thought. Wherever Draco was, he was certain that the boy would land on his feet.

Most Malfoys did.


End file.
